


The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals~Last Chance

by ApotheosisLatte



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22275358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApotheosisLatte/pseuds/ApotheosisLatte
Summary: Emma must fight to survive in a musical apocalypse. She is the last remaining resident that isn't infected in the small town of Hatchetfield, so it's up to her to save the neighboring town, Clivesdale, and possibly the world from the alien musical apocolypse.
Relationships: Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals~Last Chance

**Author's Note:**

> This is a triggering story, by the way. Anyone able to find the(pretty obvious)Trail to Oregon reference gets points! Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

My head hurts. So bad. And so does my leg, which was impaled by a piece of freaking metal because I didn't wear my seatbelt. Jane would've worn her seatbelt. She did. But she's dead now, and the seatbelt couldn't save her.

The first thoughts I have are of course about Jane. I think about her all the time, which I know I shouldn't, but she's my sister and I love her. No, she was my sister and I loved her. That's the thing about death, it changes things in the blink of an eye. I thought I was going to die, but here I am, laying on this awesome cold concrete, probably bleeding out.

The last thing I remember is Paul's face, but it wasn't Paul, really. It was the shell of who he once was, because the real Paul was dead. Dead and gone, with nothing of him remaining. That's how I'll be, too, if I don't move my ass to somewhere safe. Heh, Norah constantly told me to move my ass, but did I listen? Norah's dead now, too, and I regret to say I do, in fact, feel bad. No one deserves to die like that. Not even the person who crashed into Jane's car.

Tears jump to my eyes as I force myself up, trying to put as little pressure as possible onto my bad leg. The white bandages have to be changed frequently, but there's no way in hell that I can manage that, especially now. 

I take in my surroundings, which aren't very much, if I'm being honest. The sun is setting, which sparks a little more fear into me, but I know that will help my useless ass hide better. I'm downtown, with a chain of stores surrounding me. Maybe, just maybe, I could find McDoon's Outdoors, which is kind of like a mix of a camping store and a store for sports. It should have the things that will prepare me for this apocalypse, right?

I limp down the street, fully aware I'm in plain sight for any of the Infected to find me. Finally, I reach the store, and a wave of relief hits me. I had so much anxiety that Paul or someone I knew was gonna see me and come kill me. I don't know where the Infected are, only that I have to stay away from Starlight Theatre, where the meteor crashed, the one causing this calamity. My theory is that the Infected will group there since it makes sense that their lair would be there. I'd have to investigate more, though.

I search the store and grab a fairly large backpack that's most likely used for hiking. I had a backpack given to me after I was discharged from the hospital, but it was lost somewhere along the way. I had a backpack similar to the one I'm snatching from this store that I used when I was backpacking and staying in Guatemala. Damn kudamundis. 

I grab what I think will be necessary, which include a knife, a thin thermal blanket thing, a water bottle, a sleeping bag, some sweatshirts, and weird protein bars. I shove them all into my bag, which still has a surprising amount of room, attach the sleeping bad to the top, and sneak over to the pharmacy, this time using alleyways instead of the main roads. I grab a shit ton of gauze and some medical stuff I think I'll need, then decide where I should go from here. 

I could go back to Beanie's, the coffee shop I worked at ever since I returned to Hatchetfield, but someone might think to look there. My apartment is a definite no, CCRP, Paul's old work, is probably a no. God, where the hell am I going to go? Maybe...Hatchetfield High? No, that's too close to Starlight Theatre. Okay, well, my last option is the woods, which is quite a distance from the pharmacy. Still....

My travel there wasn't fun, especially due to the extra weight. Thank God I got some pills to ease the pain of my head and my fucking leg. I lean against the tree and slide down, closing my eyes for a second. My heart is pounding, almost for no reason, and I can't wait to wash down my wonderful, life-saving pills with cold, delicious water. It'll hopefully ease all the aches and pains in my old lady body.

I easily down the pills and rest my head back on the tree. I grab my bag, search for my blanket, and wrap it around me, now starting to get cold. Before I know it, I slip into sweet unconsciousness, entering a world where another nightmare lives.  
________

"Emma," Dad growls, "get your ass over here!"

Oh no, what did I do this time? "Yeah, Daddy?"

"I've been informed by your teacher that your grades are slipping. Care to tell me what that's about?" He asks, tone bitter.

"I, uh," I start, not knowing what to say.

He slaps he across the face, sending me to the floor. "Cállate mierda tonta! You're worthless, you know that, Emma? Try being like your sister, at least she gets good grades!"

He was right. She was aiming to be a lawyer, and I was aiming to be a nothing. It's not like anyone saw me as anything else, anyways. I'll always be worthless. To myself, to the people around me, in the eyes of God. I stopped believing in him a long time ago. I realized that praying to Him and asking Him for things, like my parents to stop treating me like shit and stop beating me and recognize me as their daughter, was utterly useless, and I had to do everything myself. I had to go through this world on my own.

"Daddy, I'm sorry," I apologize, "I'm trying, I really am!"

"You're eleven, get your shit together," he booms. 

He continues to yell some things in Spanish, but I pay no attention, as all my focus is on how his eyes are changing. They're going from brown, like my own, to a vibrant blue, and instead of words falling from his mouth, blue goo spills from it instead. He reaches his hands out towards my throat, and I scream, terrified.  
His hands squeeze my throat, and all of a sudden I'm bleeding blue, too.

______

My eyes snap open, and I breathe heavily.

"Just a dream, just a dream," I whisper repeatedly to myself.

Yes, it was all just a dream....


End file.
